


It's Saturday Night

by marsakat



Series: we did it [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anal Sex, Celebratory Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Drunk Josh, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Implied vomiting, M/M, Smut, post SNL sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat
Summary: Emotions running high after another milestone in their career; the afterparty.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pilotjosephdun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilotjosephdun/gifts), [troubledsouls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledsouls/gifts), [edy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/gifts).



> ofc i write a post-SNL sex fic. I've been waiting all week  
> implied vomiting warning for y'all!

“I want you so bad right now,” Tyler whispered in Josh’s ear in the moments before the cameras turned back on, and the drummer was far from surprised. The show was over—just the bows and hugs to the cast members they’d only just met and then _afterparty_.  Even Tyler had made noises like he wanted to go to the afterparty; because when else would they have the opportunity?

The lights burnt hot upon Josh, who could feel sweat sliding down his back, pooling at the base of his spine.  Tyler hadn’t stopped smiling since the end of Ride, and Josh knew that Tyler had bypassed nerves.  He was in his element up there, with millions of people watching them at that very moment.  And Tyler had delivered.

He was exquisite.  Amazing.

Josh had never been more nervous in his life; close to a full-blown anxiety attack all day, somehow finding himself on that stage intact and breathing heavy.  He was thankful to _not_ be Tyler, that he could stay behind his drums. Safe.  Tyler stood out there in front of everyone, and he showed how awe-inspiring he is.  And that’s just what Josh needed to make it through both songs.

He needed Tyler just as much as the glittering in Tyler’s eyes showed how he wanted him back.

Josh’s body still felt shaky; like he had a bout of flu and was recovering, walking for the first time upon weak knees. It was unreal, all of it.  Photos with cast members and writers and everyone.  Endless handshakes and embraces and pats on the back.  Tyler was going through the motions while grinning that smile, but Josh knew he was waiting to get the two of them alone.

There were champagne toasts, Josh chugged a few, and Tyler leaned in, “Keep drinking like that and you will throw up tonight,” he said ominously, playful, hand drifting low on his back.

They agreed to the afterparty, and made excuses to go to the dressing room to get their things and wash the makeup off.  Tyler clicked the lock behind them and they stared at each other.  Another moment—they had a lot like these lately—where they realized how much they had just accomplished.  Another peak, and Tyler was surging forward to kiss Josh, to send him everything he was feeling.  All the emotion and energy, and their mouths opened like they’d done so many times before, but each instance special and unique.

Tyler tugged Josh’s hair, then cupped his cheeks, and there were tears in Tyler’s eyes.

“We did it,” he said, voice choked and then he was pulling Josh’s shirt off.  Josh let Tyler walk him backwards to the makeup table and undress.  Buttons popped off Tyler’s white shirt and clattered onto the floor.  Josh knew he’d be sewing them later, not because there was a lack of that exact white shirt waiting in Tyler’s costume case, but that’s what Josh would do.

A bottle of lube was produced from somewhere.  Josh could have guessed that Tyler predicted this post-performance adrenaline high and set this up from the beginning.  Tyler’s hands were all over him and his head fell backwards as Tyler stroked his cock.  When Josh let himself listen, he could hear the footsteps of people walking past their dressing room and so he only allowed himself quiet moans and gasps.

Tyler was power.  Tyler was magnificent.  Tyler was peppering kisses along his shoulders, the freckles that were like galaxies and he was turning Josh to face the mirror.  To see them together and grip the edge of the table as Tyler’s fingers stretched him open, getting ready.  The sweat dripped down from his forehead to his cheek this time, and Josh felt like the cameras and lights were still upon them.  But when he looked up, there was Tyler behind him looking as intense as he had been on the stage.

They didn’t have much time to prepare or take it slow and touch gently, so the burn and aching stretch would be felt tomorrow too.  Tyler wasn’t holding back and the table rocked with the force of his thrusts pushing, pushing Josh back and forth.  And he let him, trust bracing him like the hands that were firm upon his hips as their skin slapped together.

Josh couldn’t watch anymore, having Tyler inside him, finding his prostate with ease and practice, was too much.  His head fell back again, barely brushing Tyler’s cheek as the singer continued to stare and watch the two of them together.  As they always would be.

With a hand on his own cock, and Tyler still pounding into him, Josh came with a single unrestrained groan.  He bent forward onto the table that was sturdier than it appeared to let Tyler do what he needed to finish.  Tyler’s hands once against were pulling Josh, but this time upwards after he was done, and they swayed side-to-side, front-to-back.  Tyler’s head hooked over Josh’s shoulder and the drummer kept his eyes closed to simply breathe and feel the other’s body against him.

A knock on the door disturbed their quiet moment.

“You almost done in there?  We’re all ready to go the afterparty.”

Oh yeah, they had their own ‘entourage’ that was waiting for them—they knew or guessed what the two were up to, having seen enough backstage kisses and shameless touches on tour and over the years.  But there were celebrations to share outside their private party, and for once Tyler was going to go.

“Bet you are gonna puke tonight,” Tyler smirked in the Uber.  Josh was vibrating with excitement now, the kind he only had before hijinks.  Tyler knew what that meant.

Josh scoffed since he had been drinking less lately, and he barely drank when he was around Tyler. Then again, tonight was different, and Tyler was right in guessing Josh would let loose.  Alcohol did not touch Tyler’s lips, of course, but he delivered shot after shot to Josh; passing everything offered to him to his drummer.

Josh’s body was lax against his, leaning almost his full body weight as the lights flashed around him.

“I love you,” Josh slurred into his ear, “Thank you.  You’re amazing. Wonderful.  Tyler, I love you.”  He tried to kiss him, but Tyler dodged—the strangers were only to know they were best friends.  Josh’s actions were to be written off as drunken jokes.

“I love you Ty, but you’re a bad boyfriend,” Josh mumbled as Tyler led him out of the club late, late at night—or early, early in the morning.  “Such a bad boyfriend—got me s’drunk.”

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Tyler apologized, he never was able to know the right limit of alcohol since he lacked firsthand experience, and poor Josh was stumbling.  Tyler watched him as if he was a bomb ready to go off and a fine from Uber was hovering over their heads.  But Josh held it together into the hotel and onto the elevator.  He was so drunk that he couldn’t be frisky, just swaying, arm draped over Tyler’s shoulder.

“I hate you,” Josh moaned, nauseous and Tyler rubbed his back as he bent over the toilet.

“You should.  I’m so, so sorry,” Tyler kneeled next to him, ignoring the ache in his knees.  He’d wait until Josh felt better, helping him to their bed and settling among the pillows.  Glasses of water offered and Josh would look more clear-eyed.  Tyler felt guilty, though Josh smiled at him from the nest of blankets.

“SNL.  We did it, dude,” Josh yawned.

“Yeah,” Tyler stroked his back.

“Y’got me drunk.  Can’t believe it.  Gonna hurt so bad in the mornin’,” Josh mumbled with closed eyes, almost asleep.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Tyler pecked his cheek and waited until his excitement, disbelief, and adrenaline subsided enough to let him sleep too.  He replayed every moment in his head, on top of the world and next to the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> THEY DID SO GOOD I'M SO SHOOK
> 
> teeentyonepilots on tumblr.


End file.
